Spider-Man 5: The Rewritten Version
by Eddie Kennedy
Summary: Six years have passed since Peter Parker became a domesticated family man, since Spider-Man and Prowler have left the limelight of New York City and since crime around the city took a turn for the worst. However, with petty crooks back in the way and the NYPD and the Daily Bugle involved, Peter must find a way to settle all this by going back to what he always did best.
1. Chapter 1

A truck stopped near a New York City bank. Out walked a bearded man with balding. Out of the trunk ran a dozen of thugs armed with shotguns and they stood before their leader.

"Okay, Mr. Systevich? What's the plan?" said one of them.

The leader of the thugs, Aleksei Systevich, sighed and spoke up.

"Ready your guns men. And for those people who loiter around this bank; if they give a problem, don't kill 'em. Otherwise we'll have the fuzz going out everywhere for us. This robbery is not something to impede upon so be careful with what you do."

"When do we go in?" asked another thug.

"We'll go in when I say we do," replied Systevich sharply, "this is not known as something to forage for either. We're just going to collect as much money as we can to manufacture what we're aiming towards createng here."

The men waited for Sytsevich's call. "Now!" shouted Systevich. The thugs broke in through the window and ran around everywhere. "Let's set this place askew!" one of the thugs shouted. He ran up to a register and pointed his gun towards the man there. "We believe in a surfeit of money so get down!" he ordered.

The man, terrified, did so. The thug ran around the back and led five of the other thugs inside while Sytsevich and the other six thugs pointed their guns towards the people in the bank, keeping them hostage. It took some time to keep consistency towards this.

"Eat the floor! Eat the floor!" Systevich continued to shout as the robbery took place behind the register. Soon their bags will filled up and they were ready to go.

"Good to go! Good to go!" shouted one of the thugs as the six of them ran out carrying sacks loaded with cash.

Systevich and his men quickly escaped the bank. Sytsevich jumped into the front of the truck while two of his men opened the doors to the back of the truck. They all threw the money inside and jumped in, slamming the doors behind them. The sound of police sirens echoed as the truck drove off.

_A wise man once told me that with great power comes great responsibility; that man was my Uncle Ben. And a great friend once taught me from the benefit of sacrifice that whatever comes our way, whatever battle we have raging within us, we always have a choice: to be the best of ourselves and to do what's right; that friend of mine was Harry Osborn._

_Both of these people in my life have recently passed over the last decade or so. And I have took the lessons that they taught me at heart. As you all know, I'm Peter Parker; a photographer for the Daily Bugle and I'm a domesticated family man._

_Unfortunately, I'm not officially who you think I am; I'm no hero, no crime-fighter and I don't serve pride to the city. Well at least not any more. That was way back. I'm a changed man and I never thought after six years something more unfortunate would happen to me._

A car pulled up outside a courthouse. Out walked Peter Parker and Hobie Brown. Chief Scott Daniels, Captain George Stacy and Deputy Captain Jean DeWolff were waiting for them.

"Mr. Parker, Mr. Brown, glad you guys could make it," greeted Daniels.

"So are we," they both replied.

"What's going on here?" asked Peter.

"Well," explained Stacy as the five of them walked inside, "it's not really a political matter but we haven't had much crime around here for six years since Spider-Man and Prowler left the city."

"What Captain Stacy is trying to say is that we're solving another crime involving mob boss Alex O'Hirn," continued DeWolff, "at least that's what he calls himself but he and his men have committed a robbery this morning in one of our city banks."

"Has the money yet been retrieved?" Hobie asked.

"Well, no," answered Stacy, "but those crooks think they're causing us a fathom, especially O'Hirn with all these crimes that he's forming but we've got our best men out there hunting them down. If we're lucky, Spider-Man and maybe even Prowler might drop in to save the day."

Peter and Hobie looked at each other. They both knew that this probably wasn't going to happen.

"These men are quite adroit though with the way they pulled the job," said DeWolff as they walked inside the courtroom filled with a crowd of chattering.

"The whole courtroom is in fact agog to hear this story," put in Daniels, "they do want their money back after all."

"Hello there, Scott," said a voice. Daniels looked to see a man dressed in a tuxedo walking over to them.

"Joseph," chuckled Daniels as the man walked over to him and they shook hands before he continued talking, "Parker, Brown, you are standing in the presence of Agent Joseph Weadon. He works for the FBI and he has agreed to work with us on this case."

"He has had a lot of experience as an FBI agent," said Stacy, "and he is quite tenacious about the way he does his job," said DeWolff.

"It's true," agreed Wheadon, "I've come to supplant many agents twice my ranks with the way I work."

Peter and Hobie looked impressed.

"Anyway, the whole courtroom," continued Wheadon, "so let's get this over and done with, shall we?"

Peter, Hobie, and Wheadon went to find a seat while Daniels, Stacy and DeWolff walked off and got prepared to make their speech.

Soon the whole courtroom was ready for the hearing. The chattering quieted down as the judge tapped against the desk.

"Order! Order!" she shouted before turning to Daniels. Stacy and DeWolff, "Chief Daniels, will you please do the honors?"

Daniels sighed as he stood before the whole courtroom, Stacy and DeWolff standing closely behind him.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," he said, "we at the New York Police Department have come before you today to elaborately claim the best we are doing at solving the Alex O'Hirn crimes."

Quiet chatters went around and the whole courtroom was in confusion.

"For those of you who don't know," continued Daniels, "Alex O'Hirn is a crime boss who has led a team of crooks into one of our city banks this morning. This isn't exactly a political matter but we will make sure that these crooks don't renounce the money that you own. Now turning to Captain Stacy. George, will you do the honors?"

Stacy sighed and stepped forward, Daniels stepping closely behind him.

"Okay," said Stacy, "I am obviously as you all know the leader of our boys down at the NYPD Department and I come before you today because I believe in good fortune and I hope that Spider-Man will return to our city someday. It has been six years since we last fighting towards the Adrian Toomes crimes. We are now officially placing Mr. Toomes off house arrest. After all, the reason for this is the increase in crime since Spider-Man leb. We just thought another year would regain our trust in Mr. Toomes. Now back to what I was saying, our men are out there right now doing their bests to capture O'Hirn and his men and bring them to justice behind bars. Captain Jean DeWolff, will you please take over?"

DeWolff stepped quickly forward, Stacy taking her place behind her.

"Alright, I bet you all can't stand how incredulously unfortunate for thirteen robbers including O'Hirn himself to take all of your money in one swoop just like that," she said, "but we are simultaneously trying to get it all back while arresting O'Hirn and his men. But as part of the city's pride, we are resolute to have this crime solved all in good time. It has also been six years since we held benediction over Spider-Man leaving this city. But he has realized that being a superhero is a privilege and therefore he feels like he doesn't want to fulfill it anymore. Thank you and have a good day."

The whole courtroom clapped as Daniels, Stacy and DeWolff leb the stage.

Outside the courthouse, everyone started walking out. Two cops were carrying were Adrian Toomes to the police car.

"You must've been saying your prayers, Toomes," said one of them. "Yeah," said the other, "because your days under house arrest are over."

"I'm quite glad to hear that," replied Toomes as they lowered him into the car. Adrian's daughter Valeria walked out of the courthouse and watched as the police car carrying his father drove away. She sighed.

"Valeria," called a voice behind her.

Valeria looked back to see Peter walking towards her.

"Oh, it's you, Peter. Why do you go home to your MJ? Your wife and your kids: Ben Junior and May Junior?"

"First off, please don't bring MJ and the twins into this. Second off, we need to talk. We haven't done so in six years since..."

"Why don't you talk to Spider-Man about it? You both have a lot in common, you know."

"You can't still be mad at me for choosing MJ over you, Valeria. I promised we could still be friends."

"Goodbye, Pete," said Valeria as he hopped into her car and drove off.

Peter was dismayed. Hobie walked up to him.

"Still trying to impress her, eh?" he asked.

"Who? Valeria? No, no. I mean, I just wish she could accept the fact that I'm married to MJ and that our friendship hasn't been as long as the relationship I've had with MJ."

"Maybe she'll understand eventually, Pete. These things take time you know. Just you wait and suddenly, it'll be there for you."

Peter sighed in agreement.

"Come on, Pete," continued Hobie, putting his arm on his long time friend, "let's get some breakfast."

"I need to go and pick MJ and the twins first. The kids have their school break and they're hanging around with MJ in the fashion designers department. I've never actually met her boss. What do you think he's like?"

"Who? Roderick Kingsley? He happens to be the greatest and most successful fashion designer in the whole city."

"Interesting. We can just go meet him then, shall we?"

"Right, Peter," chuckled Hobie, "right."

They walked into their car, hopped in and drove off to the fashion designer facility. When they arrived there, Peter sighed and turned to Hobie.

"Be right back," he said.

"I'll be waiting, Pete," replied Hobie as Peter hopped out of the car and walked inside the facility.

Mary Jane was married to Peter and they had twins Benjamin Junior Parker and May Junior Parker, commonly known as Ben and May and the kids were on summer break. They had just finished kindergarten and their mother took them to the fashion designing department for entertainment. Mary Jane was walking towards her boss' throne room. The twins were amazed as they walked around.

"Wow," gasped Ben, "took a look at this, May!"

He pointed to a statue that belonged by Roderick Kingsley. It was a goblin statue with a fireball.

"Wow!" gasped May, "look at the size of that thing, Ben!"

"I know, right?"

"Please don't touch that kids," said Mary Jane, walking towards them and putting their hands on them, "that is..."

"Property of Mr. Kingsley," sighed May, obviously knowing what it was. "We know, mom. We know," sighed Ben.

"Are these kids causing you any trouble, MJ?" Peter asked jokingly as he entered the room.

"Um, no," replied May.

"We're fine, daddy," said Ben.

"What are you doing here, Peter?" asked MJ.

"I've come to pick you up. Then we can all go and have breakfast. This is your shift, right?"

"Yeah. I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea to..."

"MJ, darling," called a voice.

In came a man, looking around his fifties and had black hair parted to the back. He spoke with a broad Australian accent.

"MJ, darling. This is your shift if you were wondering of course. You've worked very hard this morning and I am proud of you. Would you and your children like to take a stroll around the city for about an hour and a half?"

"Sure thing. Thank you. But first I'd like to meet my husband."

Peter quickly lent his hand to the man.

"Peter Parker, pleasure to meet you. You must be..."

"Roderick Kingsley," he replied, shaking Peter's hand, "yes, MJ's told me so much about you. So has Jonah. I've been looking forward to meeting you?"

"You've talked to my boss, J. J. Jameson?" "Yes, he must be very lucky to have a man like you working under a staff job. Congratulations.

"Well, it's not really much of a job for me. I'd rather be out there taking pictures of our old hero Spider-Man."

"Spider-Man? Why, may I ask?"

"Well, he's been Jameson's main target before he left the city and that's why he wanted to make to take pictures of him…"

"To make Spider-Man look like a fool," interrupted Kingsley, "that webhead is a danger to the city and I'm glad he left. He and that purple-caped moron can go rot with all of the enemies they've had in this city. That's my opinion anyway. I don't know about yours, Mr. Parker, but let me tell you this: be careful if he returns and heed that warning to the rest of the city for me please, will you? They'll need the advice."

Kingsley walked slowly towards Peter and slightly glared as he finished his sentence. Peter trembled a bit but pretended not to be intimidated.

"Y-y-yes, Mr. Kingsley, s-s-sir," he gulped.

"All in good time then," said Kingsley, brightening up a little and smiling, "I'll see you around, Parker. And I'll see you and the kids in an hour, MJ."

Then he walked off. Peter was amazed and looked back at Mary Jane and the kids who hand their hands up and hopped over.

"Come on, guys," he sighed, "let's get some breakfast."

The four of them walked out of the room, exited the building and hopped into the car. Kingsley watched them as they set off, a suspicious look spread across his face.

"Hmm, Parker," he thought slowly.

The Parker family had breakfast together at IHOP with Hobie. Everything was quiet until Peter spoke up.

"How's work going?" he asked Mary Jane, sipping his coffee.

"Not bad," she replied, "I'm not exactly certain that Roderick's the best fashion designer but he's becoming initially impressed with my progress."

"Hmm, interesting," said Peter, "how about you, kids? How's your summer going?"

"Pretty good so far," replied May.

"Mr. Kingsley's throne room is so cool, dad," said Ben loud and excitedly, "you should and see it."

"Shh, inside voice, sweetheart," said Mary Jane.

"Sorry, mommy," said Ben more quietly, "but you should see it, dad."

"I have seen it, son. We all have. Your mother's boss seems like a great man and it flatters me to see how he could have such a relationship with my boss."

"Me too," agreed Mary Jane.

"What do you think he and Jameson have in common?" asked Hobie.

"I don't know," said Peter before watching the tray carrying their food being placed on the tray jack and the waitress starting to pass out the food, "but that's what I'll find out. First however, we shall eat."

Mary Jane sighed.

After breakfast, the car carrying the Parkers and Hobie returned to the fashion designers facility. Kingsley was waiting out there.

"Bye, daddy," said the kids.

"Have a good day," Peter replied.

"You too, Peter," said Mary Jane, carrying the kids out of the car, "you too, Hobie."

"Take it easy, you guys," replied Hobie as Mary Jane closed the door.

She then held the kids by the hands as she walked past Kingsley and into the building. Kingsley gazed at Peter.

"Hmm, why's he staring at me?" he wondered.

Kingsley winked at Peter. Suddenly, Peter felt a pain in his eye and Kingsley walked back inside.

"Peter, are you ok?" asked Hobie, putting his hand on him.

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Peter, gaining eyesight again, "let's' just get outta here, shall we?"

"Good idea," agreed Hobie.

And Peter drove the car off.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter dropped Hobie off at his house.

Hobie walked out of the car, turned back towards Peter and spoke up.

"Thanks for the ride, Peter. Sorry I can't ride enough any longer. Prowler does need to go places, you know."

"So does Spider-Man. Or at least he did," said Peter before chuckling.

Hobie chuckled as well.

"You think the NYPD will be able to rest the Alex O'Hirn case without us around?"

"Don't worry about it, Hobie. Chief Daniels and Captain Stacy know what they're doing. Deputy Captain DeWolff has got her best men searching under the name Alex. Or at least that's what they were doing last time I checked."

"They could use our help, you know, Pete. And it's been six years since we let the city down on our crime-fighting duties."

"It's like I said, Hobie. Don't worry about it. The police will handle the robbery that was made this morning personally once they find the suspects behind the crime. I gotta go to work. See you later."

"See you around, Peter," said Hobie, walking towards his house.

Peter drove the car off, headed for the Bugle. At first he felt fine but the thought of Valeria came to his mind.

"Oh, god," he sighed, "how am I going to help Valeria get over what happened?"

Valeria was in her apartment looking at something when her father Adrian called.

"Valeria, honey. Breakfast time."

"Be right there, dad," she called back.

Valeria continued to look at a costume that she stole from her father's old B&T Electronics store six years ago before it went out of business. It was a black costume with harnesses out from the sides like her old Vulturess costume. She looked at the mask that lay right next to the costume. She thought of a name for the costume and finally came up with one.

"Raptor," she muttered at last.

"Valeria," called Adrian.

"Coming, dad," she called back and left the room.

Valeria used a spatula to flip an omelet onto a plate for both her and her father and then she put on the table before Adrian sat down. Valeria sat down as well.

"Dad, may I ask why you put your electronic store out of business?"

"Well, honey, here's the thing. I have enough money as it is and with Gregory Bestman behind bars for the rest of his life, there's nothing more that I really want to do with that store."

"I see. Ok, dad. Whatever you say."

"Hey, Valeria, listen. Why are you so mad at Peter? If he would rather be with Mary Jane, he can."

"It's not that, dad. I'm happy for them both. I just thought after we spent so much time together in high school that we would actually have a chance together." Then she sighed and said "I guess not."

"You shouldn't take it that seriously, Valeria."

"Dad, if I know Peter and MJ, they're both quite married to their work here in the city as they are to each other."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means they're both busy. MJ's got that fashion designing business and Peter, well, Peter's quite busy at the Daily Bugle with Spider-Man off the job. Don't you think?"

"I agree, daughter. Parker's a busy man and I'm happy for him too. I do wonder what he's up to now."

Peter parked his car in the car park before walking across the street to the Daily Bugle. A great series of events have happened to him. First a court meeting was held about the Alex O'Hirn case before he met his wife's boss who seemed like a nice man on the inside but Peter did have his suspicions about him. As he walked into the building and entered the elevator, a man, looking muscular with short black hair walked in, carrying a box of unknown supplies. The elevator took the two of them up to the floor where Peter's office was. Once they walked out and into the hallway, Jameson walked in front of Peter in brouhaha, his publisher Robbie Robertson standing behind him.

"Parker! You're late! And not a surprise either!" he shouted like he was going to go thrashing against Peter, "who's this gentleman loitering behind you like some kind of personal bodyguard?"

"I don't know, sir. I…I...I…"

"Shut up, Parker! The ayes had it!" interrupted Jameson in sort of a hectoring way before turning to the guy next to Peter, "name yourself, sport! And quickly before I have you thrown out!"

"Um, Donovan, sir. Arnold Donovan. My boss must've told you I was coming."

"Oh, yes. Your boss. Robertson, collect the gentlemen that walked in this morning and introduce them to Parker here."

"Ye…ye…yes, Jonah," stuttered Robertson, "ri-ri-right away."

"Who are these new people, Mr. Jameson?" asked Peter.

"Don't ask questions you'll soon learn the answer to, Parker. I hate people who think that they know what they're doing."

Peter sighed.

Soon Robbie came back, followed by a man with glasses and straight black hair.

"Ah, there you are, Mr. Leeds. Parker, you are standing in the presence of Dr. Edward Leeds."

"Or not Ned for short," Leeds replied.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up," put in Jameson, "anyway, Ned here might be your new rival for the staff job unless you create me an article, Parker. He will be on the job as well. I just need you both to find some information on the O'Hirn crimes by the end of the month. It is the beginning of the month right now. So I'd suggest that both of you get cracking. Where's that other client of mine?"

"Coming right your way, Mr. Jameson," called a voice, sounding a bit familiar to Peter.

The other client walked in as a surprise to Peter. It was Agent Wheadon, whom he had met at the court meeting earlier on that morning.

"Ah, Mr. Parker, I remember you."

"Why of course, Agent Wheadon," said Peter, a bit stunned.

Jameson was confused.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," he interrupted, "you two know each other?"

"Why, of course we do," said Wheadon, "we met at court this morning."

"Hmph, say that again," scoffed Jameson, eyeing Peter.

"This guy is very good friends with the fellas down at the NYPD Department…" continued Wheadon.

"Okay, okay, cut the small talk," interrupted Jameson again, "Wheadon, tell Parker why you are here."

Wheadon sighed.

"On the behalf on Norman Osborn and his son Harry," he replied laconically.

Peter look stunned.

"What about them?" he asked.

"It has come to my attention over the past several years that Mr. Osborn and his son have passed away and it sent Oscorp and it's personal milieu into a partition. They were close to you, weren't they?"

"Yes. Why are you asking me this, Agent Wheadon?"

"Because I was close to them too and lamented their deaths completely. You used to take pictures of Spider-Man as well if I'm correct. The no-good scoundrel who caused their deaths."

"Uh, huh," muttered Jameson in agreement.

"Well, Mr. Jameson will take it from here. Donovan and I have to get back to work. Come on, Donovan.

Once Wheadon and Donovan left, Jonah looked at Peter and glared.

"You wanna continue this staff job, Parker?"

"Yes, Mr. Jameson, I do."

"Then I suggest you get your ass back behind that desk, go onto that computer and find a

husbandry of information concerning the O'Hirn crimes. It better be on my desk by the

end of the day!"

"Yes, sir," said Peter. And he walked off.

"You too, Leeds!"

Leeds walked off without a word.

Jameson sighed and turned to Robbie.

"It's a menagerie just having just having those scumbags criminals running around our city. If anything, they should be arrested and ostracized. I'm surprised Spider-Man is isn't one of them."

Peter returned to his office and slumped in his down on his desk, sighing and putting his feet over his desk. His laptop faced him completely.

"The last thing I want is to go receding to my old job before the Vulture story came along," he sighed to himself.

At once, he opened up his laptop and clicked on Firefox. He immensely wanted to find more information on the Alex O'Hirn story to make sure that Leeds didn't take his job. He typed in "Alex O'Hirn" and the loud throb of the keyboard could be heard throughout his office when Jameson came in.

"How's it going, Parker?" he asked at once, "making any process yet?"

"I just started, Mr. Jameson. I haven't found much yet."

"I'm confused, Parker. I mean, are you even on the internet?"

"Yes. I just typed in 'Alex O'Hirn' and so far quite a few results have showed up."

"Show 'em to me," muttered Jameson, walking quickly over behind him.

The internet results varied to the bottom of the page. The first result that popped up read "sarcophagi crimes pulled by O'Hirn mob."

"Hmm," thought Peter, "sarcophagi crimes. What would O'Hirn want to do with coffins?"

"Don't know. But the NYPD department is bound to tell us about it. Why don't you go pay them a visit, Parker? I promise not to dock you anything but you will get extra credit for finding this information."

"Sure, Mr. Jameson. But I need to read this article and find out what a sarcophagi is. The

best Chief Daniels and Captain Stacy would want is to know what I am talking about

when I give them this information."

"Good. I'll tell that Leeds that the deadline for this assessment is the end of tomorrow. Therefore you'll both have more time to finish this report. Okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Jameson."

"That's what I thought, Parker. There's nothing like determination. And good luck."

And he closed the door, walking towards Leeds' office. Peter sighed and clicked on the website, bringing him to the page where the sarcophagi crime report was written within paragraphs.

According to the article, Alex O'Hirn had led his entire mob into the Metropolitan Museum of Art at 11:05 AM this morning. They had stolen one item from the museum known as the Egyptian sarcophagi. The item itself had been placed in the museum quite a long time ago and it has been one of the museum's most famous accessories ever since. Peter was impressed.

"Time to pay the NYPD a visit," he said to himself.

At the NYPD department, Chief Daniels sat behind his desk looking at his computer with Captain Stacy and Deputy Captain DeWolff standing by his side. They were as well discerning the article about the sarcophagi crimes. Peter came in.

"Good morning, officers," he greeted.

"Mr. Parker," said Daniels, "why are you not at work?"

"I was let off by Mr. Jameson."

"Huh," said Daniels, still curious and looking at Peter in the eye, "why?"

"We were covering the topic of the sarcophagi theft from the Metropolitan Museum of Art."

"We were going to pay a visit there, Parker. We would be honored if you join us with solving this crime. Especially since this coffin that has been stolen is seen as a humanoid according to the citizens of this city and the tourists as well."

"If we heard about the sarcophagi crimes before it was known to be pulled off by O'Hirn, we would have known how to solve both cases at the same time," claimed Peter.

"Quite right, Mr. Parker," said Stacy, "Jean and I will assemble our men and then we'll

be on our way. Come on, Jean."

"We'll get to it, George," replied DeWolff before they both exited the room.

"So what do we do in the meantime?" Peter asked.

"Find more information on what O'Hirn is going to do next I guess," said Daniels.

"Good plan," said Peter.

Daniels sat down across from the computer and started research the O'Hirn crimes.

Aleksei Systevich, the criminal mastermind who posed as Alex O'Hirn, was walking back to his truck. His men jostled through the city crowd carrying the sarcophagi back to the truck. They all wore ski masks. Systevich quickly opened the back of the truck and his men carefully placed the coffin inside. Systevich then took off his ski mask and spoke up.

"Alright, men, here's the drill. I plan to get this thing back to Oscorp safely. The others will then tell us the plan. Understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir," they all replied. And they scattered into the trunk before Systevich closed it and ran quickly to the front of the truck and drove away.

A dark purple figure watched the truck as it rolled away and flew off towards it. The figure was none other then Hobie Brown, back donned under the Prowler mask and suit.

"I've tracked down these scumbags from the start of the theft and now they're done for," he grunted to himself as he flew after the truck.

Systevich saw Prowler fly by reflecting through the side window and jerked the truck to a stop, causing Prowler to crash into the side window, breaking it. Prowler rose up to see Systevich rise out of the car and point a gun at him.

"Woah, woah, woah," gasped Prowler sarcastically, putting his hands against Systevich as he cocked his gun, "we can settle this over some pizza, don't you think?"

"With a base of gunpowder?" grunted Sytsevich.

And he shot several gunshots towards Prowler who rose up in the air and backed down onto the ground, kicking his feet into Sytsevich's face and knocking him down. Sytsevich rose up on his feet as his men ran out of the truck and pointed their guns towards Prowler, waiting for their boss' orders.

"What are you waiting for?" shouted Sytsevich, "shoot him!"

Bullets were shot towards Prowler who rose up into the air and sway from side to side,

avoiding each bullet and they all eventually landed on the ground. This continued until

Sytsevich and his men were out of bullets. The sound of police sirens came into view.

"What now, suckers?" chuckled Prowler with both his hands up.

"Run!" shouted Sytsevich.

All of the men ran into the back of the truck and closed the door to the trunk. Sytsevich hopped into the front seat and closed the door shut before driving the truck away. Prowler rose out of sight. He knew he had let the robbers get away with the coffin but he had an idea to get it back from them.

At the Metropolitan Museum, Peter, Chief Daniels, Captain Stacy and Deputy Captain DeWolff took a loiter around to find something in the museum that had to with Egypt, Rome or Greece. This meant searching for clues. The four of them went up to a guard.

"Excuse me," said Daniels.

"What can I do for you?" asked the guard.

"We're looking for the sarcophagi. We're fellas from the NYPD Department and what has transpired following thjs O'Hirn guy is our responsibility."

"I understand that, sir but what sort of sarcophagi are you looking for?"

Daniels felt quite confused before speaking up again.

"What do you mean what kind of sarcophagi? The one that's been stolen of course," he chuckled.

"Well, sir, there are three types of sarcophagi in this museum: the Egyptian sarcophagi, the Roman sarcophagi and the Greek sarcophagi. Which one are you looking for?"

Daniels felt quite benighted by what the guard was saying to him.

"Look," he sighed impatiently, "we're just looking for the one that's been stolen."

"Oh, that one. Yeah, that would the Roman sarcophagi."

"Thank you," said Stacy, "do you have any evidence on who took it?"

"Um, Alex O'Hirn."

"Do you realize why he and his men took it?" asked DeWolff.

"No, that's what we're trying to figure out."

"So are we. Can you please lead us to where the Roman sarcophagi stood before it was stolen?" asked Daniels.

"Sure. Right this way."

"Thank you," said Stacy.

The guard led Peter, Daniels, Stacy and DeWolff over to the Roman section of the museum and bought them face to face with the chamber behind shattered where the Roman sarcophagi stood before it was stolen.

"The disappearance of the coffin has been quite an ordeal to our people hear at New York City. Tourists found it quite shocking as well."

Daniels turned to Peter.

"Mr. Parker, you seem to a lot of experience from researching this at the Bugle. What do you have to add?"

Peter thought for a minute then spoke up.

"Well, according to the research I made, the coffin was lopsided on all corners and like all coffins, it stood prostrate from the ceiling. It was sent to the museum a long time so it must have quite a primitive and historical tale to it."

"What is quite obvious that O'Hirn had led this crime in a preordained manner," added DeWolff. "what we're going to find out is why he stole the coffin and where he placed it. We've already sent our best men along with tracking devices all over the city."

"In that case, I hope you all catch him," said a voice, familiar to Peter.

It was Roderick Kingsley, Mary Jane's boss from work. Peter was stunned to see him here. He thought it impossible for such a busy man like Kingsley to meet him in two places at a time.

"Mr. Kingsley," Peter said, "what are you doing here?"

"The same thing as you, Parker. Looking around. Who are these people standing behind you, Parker?"

"Oh, Mr. Kingsley, I would like to meet Chief Daniels of the NYPD Police Department. And these are his associates: Captain George Stacy and Deputy Captain Jean DeWolff."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kingsley," said Daniels, quickly shaking hands with him,

"we've heard all about your fashion designing business and it sounds quite promising."

"Thank you, I hope you folks over at the NYPD Department are doing good as well. So tell me, what kind of work do you do?"

"We mainly solve crimes," replied Stacy, "that's basically how we run our business."

"Interesting, Captain Stacy. What kind of crimes are you solving these days?"

"Well, we are trying to crack one of our biggest crimes yet and that is the O'Hirn case," said DeWolff.

"Good to know, Deputy Captain DeWolff. It's quite an ipsofacto that solving crimes is more of a challenge then you think it is."

"Oh, it is," said Stacy, "and to add to that, this crime might be bound to change our department in the most starkly of ways."

"Yes, well I see you're quite good friends with Mr. Parker. Quite a jolly young chap, isn't he? The bloke came down to my department this morning to show his devotion to his family. I can see the loyalty to them standing right before you. Eh, Parker?"

Peter felt rather flattered before replying "yes, sir."

"Ah, well, there's a good man," chuckled Kingsley, giving Peter a pat on the back, "you're much less contemptible then your old bread and butter?"

Peter was confused.

"Contemptible? Bread and butter? What are you getting at, Mr. Kingsley?"

"Well, Mr. Parker. It seems that you don't know what I'm talking about. Spider-Man was your bread and butter, your main source of income. You used to take photos of him everyday before he retired and I showed nothing but contempt for him."

"Why?" Peter, Daniels, Stacy and DeWolff asked altogether.

"He was a danger to the city and that stagnant suit of his only made him look worse. I could smell it for miles. He and the enemies he has made throughout his crime-fighting career are nothing but a bunch of detritus lunatics. Point made, Mr. Parker?"

"Y-y-yes, sir," stuttered Peter.

"Good then," said Kingsley with a smile, "I better back at work now. MJ and the kids will be wondering what they have to do next. See you later, Parker. And it was very nice meeting you all."

Daniels, Stacy and DeWolff shook their heads in quiet agreement while Peter waved him goodbye. All four of them were speechless. They watched as Kingsley left the area.

"I don't think that guy has his head screwed on right?" said Daniels.

"What makes you think that?" asked Peter.

"Mr. Parker, you can't really trust everybody in this world. Mr. Kingsley seems like a nice guy and I am fascinated with his work but he seemed quite suspicious. Tonight when you pick your family, I want you to search around the fashion designing department for clues. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. We better be going then. We all have work to do."

The four of them left.

As they exited the museum, Daniels turned to Peter.

"Mr. Parker, are you going back to the Bugle?"

"Yes, Chief. And when I get back there, I'll finish up my work before picking up my family from the fashion designing department. Don't worry. When I get there, I'll search as hard as I can for clues. You can count on me."

"Good. See you around, Mr. Parker. We have to get back to the department."

"Yeah, see you later," said Peter before heading off to his car and hopping into it. Daniels, Stacy and DeWolff watched him as he drove off.

"You think that Parker could be our last hope, chief?" asked DeWolff.

"What makes you think that?" asked Daniels.

"Um, the fact that he works at the Bugle where he could easily make a good article out of this story," replied Stacy.

'Who knows, you guys? There are many more publishing associations that could get a good catch of this story."

"Not like the Daily Bugle," said DeWolff.

Daniels sighed and nodded in agreement.


	3. Chapter 3

When Peter arrived back at the Bugle, Jameson was talking to a man with dark skin and balding black hair. Jameson noticed Peter and jumped.

"Aha, Parker. You're back. And just in time as well. Come tomorrow, the deadline for the O'Hirn story will transpire."

"Thank you, sir," said Peter, walking by and eyeing Jameson with a smile, "I'll get to it right away."

"Good. Oh, and Parker, I'd like to meet somebody."

Peter turned back and replied "who, Mr. Jameson?"

"Parker, this is our new electrician Max Dillon."

"How you doing?" said Peter, lending a hand to shake Dillon's.

"How are you?" said Dillon, shaking his hand, "Jameson's told me enough. Is it true that you used to study at Empire State University?"

"Yes," said Peter, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Really? I've taken an offer for a job there as well. I've just moved to the city, you see."

"Cool. Do you like it here so far?"

"I'm not as accustomed to it as I was to Detroit but I'll come to like it better in time."

"Oh, you will don't worry about it. I'm having a college reunion there tomorrow night. Are you gonna be there?"

"Why, yes. I am. I'm always there, on my shift. What's your name again?"

"Peter Parker."

"Oh, right. The guy with the staff job. Anyway, you'll be seeing more of me around here. And I know a lot about electricity and…"

"Ok, ok, Parker. Cut the crap. And get back to work before I preordain what will happen to your staff job."

"Alright, I'm off," said Parker, "good meeting you, Max."

"You too, Peter. See you around."

"Neither of you will be seeing each other around if you don't get back to work, Dillon," Jameson snorted.

Without a word, Dillon walked off with his toolbox. Hobie walked up to Jameson and said "so what do you think of this guy, J. J.?"

"Hobie, I've never had a better janitor in eight years. And you tell that to Parker. That's how long his career's been."

"Sure thing, sir," said Hobie before walking off.

"Hmph," grunted Jameson before taking his pills out of his pocket. "What?" he gasped in frustration, "these weren't the ones I wanted!" He stormed off shouting "Miss Brant!"

The Oscorp company went out of business once Norman Osborn, his son Harry and his associate Otto Octavius were deceased. But the Oscorp tower still stood tall and strong. Facing the entrance to the tower was Aleksei Sytevich, followed by his men carrying the coffin into the tower after him. After the doors shut, they all walked up the stairs of the tower to the top floor where their associate was waiting.

"My friend," said Sytsevich, "we've got what you needed."

The associate turned around and revealed himself to be none other then FBI Agent Wheadon.

"Perfect, Mr. Sytsevich. Now our plan can finally go into action. Why don't you have your men place that thing right here on the stone table. I'll have my guys help them with that. Gill! Donovan!"

Two men walked out. One of them was the other guy who Peter met at the Bugle: Arnold Donovan.

"There is no man other then you and your men, Mr. Sytsevich that I could rely on in this city besides these two thugs of mine: Arnold Donovan and Gil Hill. You guys, why don't you give Mr. Sytsevich and his men a hand at hauling that thing on the stone table.

"Oh, we'll be capable of that," said Hill in a determined voice.

The two of them put their hands around the front of the coffin and together, they all bought it above the stone table against the window and gently placed it down before removing their fingers.

"Donovan, release the covers," order Wheadon.

Donovan pulled the cover off to show the Roman sarcophagi. Everyone gasped in shock and awe.

"Ipsofacto," added Wheadon, "this thing could make us lots of money for our final project. This is one elegant start to getting money off the richest of the city. Don't you think?"

"I think so," said a familiar voice.

Everyone looked to see Prowler, standing by the open window and above the sarcophagi.

"How did you find us?" grunted Sytsevich, "you're the most starkly superhero I've ever

met! You know that?"

"I'm not as starkly as you think. Now hand over the coffin."

"Pfft, in mid-air?" scoffed Sytsevich.

"You bet," said Prowler, "now hand over the coffin."

"After you. Shoot him, guys."

They all started shooting at Prowler who rose into the room and struggled while the coffin flew into the air and out the window. The men then shot at him while he dived the window after the coffin. Prowler rose down past the coffin and the whole crowd as he managed to grab hold as it fell to the ground. He landed face-first on the ground and a few seconds, he rose up as the whole crowd on him and a two-finger whistle was let out.

At the Bugle, Jameson slapped down a photo of Prowler giving a "rock on" gesture.

"Despicable! Confound this purple-caped maniac!" he spluttered, "he's at it again. Next thing you know, Spider-Man's gonna be on the move with him!"

"Jonah, if I may point out to you…" said Robertson.

"You may not, Robbie!" Jameson rudely interrupted, "don't try and be a smart aleck in my presence! If anything, you're just an assistant! Unless you have nothing relevant to say, don't say anything!"

"I do have something to say, Jonah."

"And what would that be, Robbie?" said Jameson, relaxing a little bit, "bring me news and make my day."

"Jonah, this Prowler guy has returned to the city probably to help solve the O'Hirn case."

"Huh, so what are you getting at, Robbie?"

"Well, Jonah. If it weren't for him, the coffin wouldn't have been retrieved and who

knows, Spider-Man might come back to assist him once more."

There was a short pause while Jameson looked at Robbie, confused and annoyed.

"Have you been to any wine tastings lately, Robbie?" he asked sarcastically.

"No, sir," replied Robbie, "not with this career I'm in."

"Have you submitted for hallucination testing yet?"

"Um…no sir."

"I want you in with your doctor before the party at Empire State University tomorrow night! And don't you drink once until you're completely submitted! First off, Prowler was a sidekick and assisted Spider-Man, you loony! Second off, Spider-Man's a crook and WOULD NEVER SOLVE SOMETHING SO URGENT! THIRD OFF, ARE YOU AWARE THAT THE NYPD COULD'VE TRACKED DOWN THESE LUNATICS AND FOILED WHATEVER THEY WERE UP AGAINST? THEIR PRESENCE WOULD HAVE TRANSPIRED AROUND THE SAME TIME AS PROWLER'S!"

There was a ringing on the telephone. It was quite predictable who it was.

"WHAT? WHAT IS IT, BETTY? IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, I'M VERY BUSY RIGHT NOW!"

"Blood pressure, sir. Take your pills, oh, and drink plenty of water."

Jameson looked at Betty and sneered. Betty chuckled back as Jameson took his pills while gulping down a cup of water and placing it back on his desk, grinning sarcastically.

"ANYWAY, BACK TO BUSINESS…!"

The phone rang again. Jameson picked it up.

"THERE'S NOBODY HERE! THE BUGLE IS OUT OF BUSINESS BECAUSE OF TOO MANY FAKE PHOTOSHOOTS!"

"Again, blood pressure, sir. Your wife's on the other line asking about how you're doing?"

"TELL HER SHE'S NEVER MARRIED A BETTER MAN!" spluttered Jameson once more.

"Right away. Oh, and sir, I need to ask you something…"

"WHAT?"

There was a short pause as Jameson looked across at Betty who smiled and replied.

"Um, have you been to any wine tastings lately?"

Jameson give a slight glare and sneered. He could hear uncontrollable laughter on the other line from clients surrounding Betty's desk. Robbie sniggered with a stark smile before Jameson eyed him and glared. Robbie stopped smiling when he did this.

"Huh," huffed Jameson, looking at the crowd around Betty's desk, "the question is have _they_ been to any wine tastings lately."

"Correct, sir…"

"Shut up. Robbie, I want every researcher in this department to figure everything else they know about Alex O'Hirn. Which means Parker and Leeds. I want the decision on whether whose end up with the staff job to be preordain. Go check on them at once!"

"Y-y-yes, sir," stuttered Robbie before leaving the room.

Jameson sighed and put his feet over his desk, popping a cigarette and his mouth and lighting it before smoking it.

The whole crowd left Betty's desk. Betty was working away at her paperwork when Robbie came into view.

"Hey, Betty. Have you seen Peter or Ned around lately? Jonah wanted to make sure they were doing their job right."

"No, Robbie. Not since this morning. But if you check…"

"Bah bah bah bah bah bah," sang Leeds in a grove as he walked up to Betty's desk and slammed his hands down on it and saying in a grooved up manner, "whaddup, Betty girl?"

Betty chuckled.

"Um, hi, Mr. Leeds, I…"

"Oh, please, please, please. Call me Ned," he said, gulping a bit before continuing, "that's my codename. At least the name I go by. If you need anything, just call up Ned and I'll answer to that ring-a-ling-a-ling. You know?"

He chuckled and left his number on a post-it-note down on her desk, leaving Betty confused and speechless.

"Ah, okay," she chuckled, "so what's your catch, um…Ned?"

"Oh, what's my catch?" he chuckled in such an amused manner, "you don't get the clarityof what I ask? My catch, Betty, is you and I. You know, jazzing, groovin' it all up, on a roll up tempo. Ya get what I mean, right?"

Betty never felt so confused by somebody who she just met.

"Are you asking me out?" she asked curiously.

"Asking you out? On a date? Nah. Just saying, you and I; a little quality time; a stroll around the city along the pavement sidewalk; eyeing the array of sleek buildings and jazzy grooved-up night clubs that the city has to offer; the works. What do you say?"

Betty had a deciding but quick reply.

"Uh…no, Ned," she replied, smiling, "no, thank you. And no offense to you, I know you have feelings for me and all…"

"Pfft, feelings?" Leeds interrupted smoothly.

"…but in the end, my loyalty with all that belongs to Peter. He and I are in a tight relationship and we're great friends. I just met you and I've known Peter longer for about eight years. Maybe some other time."

There was a short pause before Leeds replied.

"Betty…um, Peter's not only engaged but he's married. Not against him or anything, just saying. Besides, it's May. Closer to the summer. How about when the weather's more like um…balmy?"

Betty chuckled in such amusement and jokingly said "would you get outta here, you stalker?"

"Okay, okay," said Leeds, calming her down from amusement, "but remember, if you need me, my number's on the desk?"

"Um, wait, Ned," said Robbie, holding him back.

"Uh, yes, Robbie."

"Jameson would like to see you in his office. Now."

"Oh, sure thing, Robbie," said Leeds, following Robbie to his office. He walked in and said "J.J., my man, what's up?"

"Ah, Leeds. I have one request for you."

"What would that be, J.J.?"

"Get back to work! Parker might beat you to the staff job!"

"Okay, okay," chuckled Leeds, leaving the room.

Jameson looked at Robbie.

"Find Parker in his office and tell to be instantaneous with his research. What this O'Hirn guy is up against and where his dwelling is. I have the fragrance of Peter keeping the staff job already. And bring him here. I need to talk to him."

"Yes, sir," said Robbie before leaving the room.

Peter was in his office with the sound of the keyboard on his laptop throbbing away. He was staring benignly at his laptop. Robbie knocked on the door.

"Come in," said Peter.

Robbie opened the door and said "hello, Peter. Jameson would like to see you in his office right away."

"Okay," said Peter, rising up and walking out of the room with Robbie behind him.

"So what's this about?" Peter asked.

"I don't know," said Robbie, "hopefully it will be a titchy matter because you need to get the research done by tomorrow."

"I know that. Hopefully Jameson and I can have this conversation calmly for once."

"Me too, Peter," said Hobie as they walked towards Jameson's office.

Peter opened the door and said "good day, Mr. Jameson. So what can I do for you?"

Jameson, facing the window, turned around and eyed Peter, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.

"Parker, how much farther have progressed with research on the Alex O'Hirn case?"

"Quite far, Mr. Jameson. And not only that but I solved the case further with the NYPD today. Let's just say we were being congenial about the way were solving this crime…"

"That doesn't cut it, Parker," interrupted Jameson, "has my message to you from

eight years ago that this company needs news from our own media and not from other sources become unheeded?" If so, then you must be making a folly of what the requirement is for…"

"No, sir. I'm not. But I have a supposition that I would like to share with you."

"What would that be then, Parker? Thank god you're dressed immaculately to elucidate the rumors that were made about the robberies with this so called O'Hirn guy!"

"Well, Mr. Jameson, both the bank robbery and the museum robbery are quite close to Oscorp and if it had gone out of business eight years ago, it would have been demolished by now, don't you think?"

Jameson was silent for a few seconds, looking at Peter contemptuously, before replying.

"You expect to agree with that 'supposition', Parker?"

"It's the supposition I'm sharing with you, sir. Oscorp is in the vicinity of both the museum and the bank."

"Well, I think this evidence is conclusive and it's also quite futile."

"I guess I'll have to agree with you, sir."

"Well, tell you what, I have a bad feeling about this Prowler guy returning. For all you know, Spider-Man might soon join him once more and he would make the whole city smell fetid. His gestures from all those years back were poignant enough."

"Very poignant, sir."

"Anyway, back to business. I'm afraid I am soon going to set an ultimatum on who should get the staff job at the end of this assignment: you or Leeds?"

Thoughts spontaneously occurred to Peter about what would happen if he became Spider-Man again and Jameson would find out his identity and fire him. Today he felt more worried and his thoughts were rudely interrupted.

"Parker? Parker? PARKER!"

"Huh, what's going on?" said Peter, escaping the spontaneous feeling.

Jameson eyed him suspiciously before continuing what he had to say.

"You've worked with us longer then Leeds and this is why I am counting of you. Can I count on you to have this assignment completed before Leeds by tomorrow morning?"

"You can count on me, sir. I'm your man."

"All in good time then. Back to work please."

"Sure thing, Mr. Jameson,' said Peter before leaving the office and heading back to his.

Jameson sighed and looked at Robbie.

"You know, Robbie. Parker and Leeds are the only two people I can count on at the moment to help get this information. If neither of them succeed, we'll have no luck at all. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, Jonah. I do…"

"Oh, I thought you might. You're the only one in this bloody department that I could actually rely on. Now bring Leeds here. I need to have a word with him about the research and it's deadline for tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," intoned Robbie, leaving the office.

Leeds was in his office, his headsets in as he gazed his laptop. Robbie knocked on the door.

"Hey, Ned."

"Yo. What's up, Robbie?"

"Um…Jameson would like to see in his office."

"I'm on my way, Robbie," said Leeds, rising up from his desk and leaving his office with Robbie closing the door behind them. A few moments later, they made to Jameson's office.

Robbie opened the door and said "he's here, Jonah."

"Ah, Mr. Leeds. Come right in. We need to talk."

"Sure thing, Mr. Jameson," said Leeds, calmly walking in as always and facing Jameson, "alright boss, what's up?"

Jameson looked a bit weird at Leeds before replying.

"Leeds, how far have you gotten with the research on the Alex O'Hirn crimes?"

"Quite far, sir…"

"Good, next thing you know these guys might be enter the foyer to this building. Have you got anything on that?"

"Um, no sir. Why would they want to do that?"

"I'm being sarcastic. We've got guards everywhere securing the building all over. Plus we've got our new janitor Max Dillon. Anyway, back to business. What else have you found out?"

"Um, nothing besides the bank and museum robbery, sir. It seems that this kind of news is quite…"

"Don't give up, Leeds! The main reason why you joined was to get news, not to slack off! Anyway, tell me the news."

"Uh, I don't know where to start, sir."

"I can probably tell you," said Ted Hoffman, peaking in through the door.

"Shut up. Get out," muttered Jameson.

Before Hoffman could leave, Jameson spoke up again.

"Wait, wait, wait, Hoffman. Don't go. I'm gonna need you."

"For what, sir?"

"I suspect you have a report on the Alex O'Hirn crimes. Do ya?"

"Yes, sir. I do."

"Well then. Come in here and tell me all the news. Where do you have to start?"

"Well, sir," said Hoffman, coming back in and standing before Jameson with Robbie and Leeds behind his desk, "these men seemed spent the predominant amount of their time being the masters of crime because of the kind of stuff that they stole. Not only did they steal nearly a tenth of this city's wealth but they've committed an infringement."

"An infringement? What kind of infringement? You're not really making any sense, Hoffman."

"Well, sir. President Obama said over the news this morning that he was sending out professional government agents to get the city back what they've been looted of."

"Hmm, well thank god Spider-Man isn't here in that embroidered black web, blue and red costume of his that humiliatingly resembles this country's emblem. I'd be quite reproachful of him returning to this city. I'd rather have him stay in his stupid old cavernous spider hole. So how would the President know how to select who he's sending out to catch these guys?"

"They've been chosen by the government themselves, sir. Their best mission of accomplishment was the retrieval of a line of murals, which were also taken from the Metropolitan Art Museum. The crooks in that robbery could've sent the whole museum in a mess with the theft that they made. Thank god those paintings stand there once more nowadays and thank god they didn't impoverish this whole city with the money they stole."

"Yeah, really," chuckled Leeds in agreement.

"Shut up and let the man speak," muttered Jameson sneeringly.

Leeds felt trembly from this.

"Anyway," continued Hoffman, "O'Hirn and his men seem to have taken part in a conspiracy with the crimes they committed. Whatever they've stolen and how they've done it must have a reason to its solution. They've obviously done it for a certain purpose. Now the NYPD and the U.S. Government are best to work together to find out what these guys are searching for. I think that could be arranged."

"I'll ask Parker about it tomorrow. He's good friends with the fellas down at the NYPD Department. Do you have anything else to add, Hoffman?"

"Yes, sir. I do. I have a hunch that these guys could be manufacturing a rocket to them up to space and look between its desolate interstellar background to see what they could find in space. It could be the next Sputnik for all I'm guessing?"

"Rockets? Space? The next Sputnik? Such a swiveling rocket ready to be pulverized into space? When was your last beer, Hoffman? These guys are criminals and what would criminals want to do with space? They invariably steal for a living for god's sake!"

"Well, sir. What I've told you is insofar as we are about to crack a big case here while writing this article. It seems that the crooks seemed to have rendered the coffin back to Prowler who arranged the coffin's return to the museum."

"Rendering, hmm, Hoffman? Look at the window at the crime that is going around. Is the window too opaque for you to see through? 'Cause you don't have a clue what you're talking about. First off, the only reason why they let Prowler was so that they could plan a better assault on the museum whenever they have the chance! What do you think it is instead? Just some capsule? Second off, you're unheeding the directions towards the real

topic of this discussion! Third off, WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET THIS

INFORMATION FROM ANYWAY?"

"The news channel. It's been all over the news this morning."

"And you believe it? Right before you expect me to believe what those idiots on television are spilling out to us."

"The reports seemed quite rudimentary, sir."

"Oh, the know-it-alls now, are they? Logicians, are they? And that's why you believed them. Why don't you find out what the O'Hirn crimes would have robbing a décor like the sarcophagi? Don't just spill out bullcrap that those nitwits are spilling from silo to silo and make yourself useful! MOVE IT!"

Hoffman walked out of the office in a rush while Robbie and Leeds walked to face Jameson who still sat behind his desk. Betty was startled from outside. The sound of Jameson's voice boomed like a seismicearthquake.

"The boss' daily pandemonium," sighed Betty jokingly to the guys over her desk.

Everyone laughed and laughed. Back in the office, Jameson looked at Leeds in his typical morose manner.

"What are you looking at, small brain? Don't you have a deadline to reach?"

"Oh, right," muttered Leeds, walking out of the office.

Jameson sighed once more and eyed Robbie.

"Well, well, well, Robbie. I've just talked to three people in a row today and none of their reports are conclusive. This city will always be in danger insofar as long as Spider-Man is around. What am I going to do with myself?"

"I don't know, sir. I…"

"Thought you wouldn't. Heck you've been in my office for the majority of the day so far. There must a hint of faith in you and you might be the only one I know in this building who has it. What do you think that proves?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't, Robbie. But I sure do."

After work, Peter walked out of the Bugle and across the street. It has been quite a big day for him and now he had to solve the mystery of the O'Hirn crimes. How was he going to crack the case without Spider-Man swooping in to save the day?


	4. Chapter 4

In his car, Peter called up Hobie.

"Hey, Hobie. Meet me outside your house. We have things to do."

Hobie's voice was muffled over the speaker.

"You'll find out when I get there."

After that Peter hung up.

Hobie was waiting outside his house as Peter pulled up.

"Get in," he said.

Hobie walked over to the car and hopped in. The car then drove away.

"Talk to me, Pete. What's up?"

"We need to go to the fashion designing department."

"Why?"

"There has been a lot of news going on about the crimes that have been committed today and I just want to see if any clues lead to MJ's boss. He might know a thing or two about the sarcophagi crimes and I've seen him at the museum this morning. I want to get to the bottom of this case immensely."

"You don't suspect he has anything to do with this, do you?"

"With what?"

"The crimes."

"What? Oh, no, no, no. I just want to see if you and I could find out any clues in the fashion designing department. I mean, after Jameson has been hectoring everyone all day, I thought it would be best if we could crack the case ourselves."

Hobie sighed.

"Whatever you say, Peter. But if we get into any trouble, don't say I didn't warn 'cause I did."

Peter just sighed and continued to drive the car until they arrived at the fashion designing department. The two of them left the car and walked towards the entrance.

"Do you know anything about Roderick Kingsley?" Peter asked.

"Tell you one thing I know," said Hobie as they opened the doors and walked in, "I don't trust him that much."

"Why?"

"There have been rumors about spoiling other businesses to make his own."

"Who said that?"

"Oh, some woman known as Narda Ravanna."

"Narda Ravanna? Oh yeah," said Peter who was not at all bewildered, "isn't she that chemist from Boston that who funds that company with her sister."

"They _did_ fund it. But it's out of business now and they think that Roderick Kingsley's responsible. I would've thought so too if it were my business."

"Why? Kingsley seems like a nice guy."

"Don't they all? But rumors say that Ravanna is in New York City right now planning her revenge on Kingsley."

"I'm afraid I'll have to tell the police then. This is serious."

"No, Peter. Please don't. She hasn't made any harm yet, has she?"

"You're right. We'll just let it stow for a while and if things get suspicious then I will tell the cops. That would be their kind of story."

"Thank you, Peter. I totally agree with you."

As Peter and Hobie walked closer into the department, they reached Kingsley's throne room that Peter discovered earlier and walked to make a discovery of it. The song that Mary Jane sang on Broadway was played with piano chords on the radio and two pitches higher into a D note. It sounded dazzling and Peter recognized it at once.

"MJ sang this on Broadway six years ago. Kingsley must be planning a surprise for us or something."

The song ended as Kingsley walked in.

"Mr. Parker. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, nothing. Just waiting for MJ and the kids. Are they around?"

"Oh, MJ's just finishing up her last shoot. Who's your associate?"

"Mr. Kingsley, this is my good friend Hobie Brown."

"Ah, well he seems like a nice young man. How do you, Mr. Brown?"

He lent a hand to shake Hobie's. Peter gave him a gesture to shake his hand back.

"How do you do?" Hobie asked back, shaking hands with Kingsley, their fingers clinging around each other like prongs from a fork. He did feel a little uncomfortable being around him.

"So what business do you do?" Kingsley asked.

"Who? Me? Oh, I'm just an ordinary, out-of-work guy. Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Kingsley?"

"All in good time, my new friend. You seem quite content with my work. Are you discerning the message that I was trying to convey in my art?

"Um, no. Not at all actually. It is interesting though. Your department seems quite 'fashionable' so to speak."

The three of them laughed and laughed and laughed until Mary Jane walked in with the

kids.

"Hey, MJ. Hey, kids."

"Hi, daddy," they all replied.

"You ready to go."

"Yes," said the kids.

"Oh, they were born ready," joked Mary Jane.

Again, everyone laughed and laughed and laughed.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Kingsley," said Mary Jane.

"Bye, Mr. Kingsley," said the kids.

"Bye, MJ. See you later, kids. Have a good night as well."

"You too," they all replied as they walked out of the throne room.

As the five walked outside and onto the sidewalk, Hobie turned to Peter.

"I think I'll catch a cab home, Peter. I got stuff I gotta do."

"That's alright. MJ's busy with cooking dinner anyway. She's gotta go to the supermarket and get everything. It's just a busy life being domesticated parents, Hobie. You might understand one day."

"Oh, I hope so, Peter. See you around."

And he walked away down the sidewalk. Peter sighed and turned to the car where MJ and the kids were all seated down and waiting. Peter hopped into the front and drove off.

That night, the moon shone brightly over the city. The kids Ben and May were asleep and Mary Jane had just finished clearing up the dishes as she put the plate away. Peter was almost done with his research. The throb of the keyboard from his laptop could be heard continuously. Mary Jane walked and put her arms around his neck. Peter lay back and stretched in relaxation.

"I will be up in about 15 minutes, honey."

"That's great," said Mary Jane, taking her arms off his neck, "is this research really that important that you have to get it finished like right now?"

"Um…yeah. I'm a businessman. I may be employed but I've got a nice staff job to help me bask in my glory at the Bugle."

"Yeah. So did the results of the sarcophagi robbery end up with Prowler stopping it?"

"Yes, it did. Yet I don't know what Hobie was thinking when he did it. The whole city's gonna be asking on Spider-Man's return to the city by Prowler's side."

"Yeah, don't we all wish that happened. Yet your kids don't even know who the legacy of their own father and what he really meant to the city. Your position has receded from local hero to average Joe."

"Oh, please. Do we have to talk about this now?"

"Well, Peter. Don't you remember all those six years ago?"

"What are you getting at?"

"You know when you swooped in as Spider-Man and saved the day; you were a superhero with a humanoid impact on the city; still after you proposed to me, you and Hobie came jostling through the crowds and thrashing whoever committed a crime in this city. To me, you were someone, Peter. You still are to me now but I really wish you and Hobie could get back into the crime fighting business. Especially with the crime that is going around here."

"Yeah, but we've got the NYPD to sort that out. As a matter of fact, Chief Daniels and Captain Stacy have got their best men out there to track O'Hirn and his men. Deputy Captain DeWolff," explained Peter, reclining in his chair.

"Whatever you say, Peter," sighed Mary Jane, turning around, "I'll be off to bed. Good luck with finishing your research."

"Thank you," sighed Peter as Mary Jane left the room.

After he was done with his research, Peter saved it all on a document and went up to bed. As he entered his room where Mary Jane was sleeping, he opened the closet. There stood his old Spider-Man costume. He eyed it with wonder.

"Hmm," he thought, "local hero…to average Joe."

The next morning, Peter walked into the Bugle, his Spidey outfit hidden in between his suit as he entered the building. Mary Jane and the kids were at the fashion designing department. Hobie was at home doing only god knows what. Peter was just going back to his regular timetable at the Bugle. As he stood in the elevator, he sighed and stood silent.

"What if MJ is right?" he thought to himself, "what if being a superhero again would mean a lot more than being an average guy?"

As Peter entered the floor where he worked at, he walked out into the area, the research in his hand.

"Parker, you're on time," said Jameson, walking up to him, "and right before Spider-Man passed through our hemispherical world and into this city again. I believe I'll be taking those papers. Leeds already gave me his. Come on now. Chop chop."

His fingers moved out as Peter lay the papers in his hands.

"Attaboy. Wait in your office so we can talk."

"Okay, sir."

As Jameson stormed off, Leeds walked up to Peter.

"Morning, Peter."

"Oh, good morning, Ned."

"Feeling anything different about today?"

'Nah, not really despite Jameson's typical hectoring."

Peter and Leeds both laughed. Leeds was definitely discerning the joke that Peter was conveying.

Leeds went silent, sighed and then spoke up again, "look I'm not going to make any bets here because I don't want you have to paint yourself quite a distressing panorama for your future but if I get that staff job today, your staff job ranking will recede. Not being rude or trying to make feel…antiquated. Just saying."

"No offense taken," sighed Peter, "see you around."

Peter then left for his office as Leeds sighed and watched him.

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Not today, Parker, my friend. Not today."

"Leeds!" shouted a familiar voice.

"Y-y-yes, sir," said Leeds, standing at attention.

"Get back to your office immediately."

"Okay, Mr. Jameson."

And he did so, walking towards his office.

In his house, Hobie sat down at his table, relaxing, with a cup of coffee in his hand. It had been a quiet morning for him so far and watching the neighborhood from outside was quite a panorama for him.

A set of eyes watched him closely. Within a few seconds, a figure broke in through the window. She was a pink suit and cape. She looked like quite a monstrosity to Hobie.

"WHAT THE HELL? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?" he shouted, feeling quite freaked out.

"Somebody told me you returned a roughhewn coffin to which it's pedestal helps it stand once more," she said, "I'm glad I found you, Mr. Brown."

"WHY? WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"

"Oh, you know me. You wrote that paper about me four years back. I made the front page, remember?"

"Narda Ravanna?" Hobie gasped.

"It's Bella Donna now," she replied, "and I've passed through the skyline and into this city to ask simple favor of you."

"What would that favor be?"

Bella Donna spoke rather phonetically using clear words with Hobie.

"Well, this cape is made of quite baroque material and I spared no expense for it but let's cut to the chase. You and I both have a mistrust in one person: Roderick Kingsley."

"Roderick Kingsley? What about him?" questioned Hobie, feeling less embittered towards Bella Donna.

"Hopefully you're understanding the linguistics of the message I'm conveying because I thought you wrote about he did to me."

"Well…" chuckled Hobie, trying to be genial against a superwoman so intimidating.

"THAT STUPID PRACTITIONER RUINED MY BUSINESS!"

Hobie looked frightened and bemused before Bella Donna continued talking.

"And now I want my revenge on him! If you and I pull this off, we can rob his entire gallery."

"It's a good thing you want to get back at someone who ruined something that was personal for you but I used to be a superhero: Prowler.'

"You were?" gasped Bella Donna.

"Yes. I was. Which means I don't steal."

"This is not stealing. This is taking back what is ours, Mr. Brown. If we do this without Kingsley being admonished, we can reinvest in my business and possibly have him arrested. Interested in my plan?"

Hobie thought for a moment.

"What's in it for me?" he asked curiously.

"Being a hero again. Without old Spidey in the way. What do say?

Hobie thought for another moment before making up his mind.

"I'll do it," he said.

"Good," said Bella Donna, "get your suit on and then we'll get outta here."

The two shook hands with each other for their alliance before Hobie walked off to get changed into his suit. A few minutes later, Prowler and Bella Donna flew away from the house and over the city.

"So are we exactly going to Kingsley's place?" Prowler asked.

"Yes," said Bella Donna, "as soon as we get there, we will steal his entire fabled gallery as we load it all into the truck that me and my accomplices own?"

"Accomplices?"

"Yes, they will be there outside the building waiting for us. We better hurry before we blow our cover towards the cops. We will have poor Kingsley feeling rather feverishlyonce the gallery is gone."

"Okay," said Prowler, still a little confused.

Prowler and Bella Donna flew across the city with everyone gazing at them like some sort of trajectory. When they arrived at the fashion designing department, they opened the doors and entered.

"Do you know where the art gallery is?" Bella Donna asked.

"For sure I do," replied Prowler, "Pete and I have been here before. I'll show you the way."

When Prowler led Bella Donna to the art gallery, a window to the city side was next to one of Kingsley's portraits. The truck carrying Bella Donna's accomplices showed up outside the window. Bella Donna contacted her lead accomplice, Jesse.

"Jesse, are you guys ready?"

"Yes, Ms. Ravanna. We are."

"Good. Because I'm gonna kick open this window and my friend Prowler's gonna start passing stuff down to you guys."

"Sounds like a plan, Ms. Ravanna. My men and I will be waiting."

"Good," said Bella Donna before hanging and turning to Prowler.

"Get this portrait down to them. And carefully as well. We're planning to sell these and make money for reinvestments."

"All in good time, Ms. Ravanna," Prowler replied before picking up a portrait of a crop field with a prolific farmer standing next to it and waiting patiently for Bella Donna to break the window.

"Ready?" she shouted.

"Ready!" Prowler shouted back.

"5! 4! 3! 2! 1! Here we go!"

Bella Donna stood back and flew towards the window like a scything, shattering it.

"Go!" she shouted to Prowler.

Prowler flew out the window, the portrait in his hand, and he leaped down to the ground like a cascade and when he got the ground, his mouth was slavering from exhaust as the men loaded the portrait into the truck. Prowler rose back up into the building for the next object. Bella Donna handed him a samurai sword.

"A really samurai sword?" chuckled Prowler, holding it up, "really?"

"It's valuable! Now take it!" ordered Bella Donna.

Kingsley came in to see Prowler and Bella Donna who had already picked up a spear.

"Who are you two? Why are you robbing?"

"MOVE!" shouted Bella Donna.

She and Prowler quickly jumped out the window as a shock to Kingsley. Mary Jane came in.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"I've been robbed," said Kingsley, "we have to call the police. And quickly."

He and Mary Jane quickly ran to find the telephone.

"Is this it?" asked one of the thugs.

"We've gotta go," said Prowler.

"Why?" asked another thug.

"We've been compromised. Get in the truck," said Bella Donna.

All of the thugs got in the truck followed Prowler and Bella Donna and the truck drove off. The story soon spread over the news. Peter was at the Bugle walking around the hallway when he saw Deputy Captain Jean DeWolff reporting the story on the news.

"We should've known that this was imminent from the moment Miss Narda Ravanna fly across our city. It seems that she and ex-superhero Prowler have robbed three items from Roderick Kingsley's fashion designing department today and our best men have been obliged to go out there and retrieve these items."

Peter ran out of sight. With the Spidey suit hidden under his business suit, he knew exactly in a crisis like this.

"Parker! PARKER! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" shouted Jameson.

Peter wasn't listening to Jameson. He rushed into the elevator and it closed and took him down to the bottom floor. He quickly ran outside and behind an alleyway. He then unbuttoned some of his shirt to show his Spider-Man suit. A few seconds later, he swung into the city as Spider-Man and across the skyline.

"Hmm," he thought, "where could these guys be?"

Suddenly a bullet was aimed at Spider-Man but he ducked to one side as it passed and then he located the next bullet coming from the truck carrying Prowler, Bella Donna and the thugs.

"Aha," heintoned, swinging on after the truck, "these guys won't get away so easily now."

He landed on the truck. Jesse, who was driving the truck, felt something. So did the guy next to him.

"Yo, Mac. Shoot at the top of the truck. I think that maladjusted spider's on top and I would dolefully regret giving up this heist and impoverishing Ms. Ravanna and ruining her business even more."

"So would I," said Mac, turning his head outside the window and pointing his gun at the top of the truck but Spider-Man was nowhere to be seen. "Huh?" he thought, "where's the spider?"

"Must've been a rock or something," said Jesse, "we'll check later."

"Whatever you say," sighed Mac.

The reason why Spider-Man was nowhere to be seen was because he had leaped down from the truck and holding on to the handles from the doors that would allow him to open the truck. He quickly opened the doors and leaped inside.

"Heisting time over, fellas. Tell your crazed pals to stop the truck and surrender these items before I send this truck flying airborne like a plane. You're all going downtown."

Bella Donna chuckled before going into an outrage and shouting with a guttural tone.

"YOU MORON! YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD RETURN TO THIS CITY JUST TO STOP ME? THIS ISN'T A MENIAL HEIST WE JUST PULLED OFF, YOU KNOW!"

"Relax, lady. Save your screaming for the cops, will you? I'm just a messenger boy."

"GET HIM!" shouted Bella Donna.

"Wait, no!" said Prowler.

All of the thugs opened fire at Spider-Man who caught all of the bullets in webs and then he webbed the guns out of their hands placing them on the ground, disarming them.

"Be careful next time because it's not like I have a probe with me," he joked.

As Spider-Man was webbing the thugs up, Bella Donna intervened and pushed him to one side.

"Leave my men ALONE!" she shouted.

Prowler, eager to defend his friend, shoved her away from Spider-Man before Bella Donna kicked him back in the face.

"Ooh," groaned Prowler, slowly recovering before jokingly remarking, "you hit like a bitch."

Bella Donna raged at him.

"I AM ONE!" she shouted, "I THOUGHT WE HAD A DEAL!"

Spider-Man lunged at Bella Donna and held her to the ground, webbing her. The thugs opened fire once more. Spider-Man quickly ducked a few of their shots before webbing the rest of them until the thugs were all out of ammo.

"Not today, fellas," he said, "now surrender those items."

Before any of them could answer, Jesse braked hard on the truck as it stopped in the harbor and inches from a ramp leading to the water. No one knew this just yet. Mac shot bullets back at Spider-Man who webbed his gun before being pushed to the side by Bella Donna. Spider-Man got the upper hand by tossing her the ground and webbing her.

"DON'T MOVE!" he shouted.

All the thugs lunged at Spider-Man and Prowler intervened, kicking them all while Spider-Man webbed them. Jesse braked hard on the truck again which bought it down the ramp. Jesse and Mac wailed. Prowler grabbed the portrait and flew out. Spider-Man webbed the samurai sword and the spear and swung out of the truck as it rolled into the water. When Spider-Man landed on the ground next to Hobie, he laid down the items next to the portrait. The samurai sword was silver and gleaming and the spear looked so realistic while the tip of it was shaped like a prong from a fork.

"How conspiratorially unlawful is this?" he asked Prowler, "so tell me, Hobie. Why did you try and steal these items?"

"That chick and I wanted to get back at Kingsley for what he did to her business," Prowler replied, "now we're even with him."

"Not anymore you aren't. These are going back to the fashion designing department immediately," said Spider-Man before jokingly saying "besides, that woman had anger issues. Did you ask her if she took antidepressant drugs?"

"I stood up for you, Pete," said Prowler, ignoring his stupid remarks, "and I had your back. But I'm afraid I can't let you take back these items."

"Stopping crime is what guys like us used to do best so _I'm_ sorry."

The sound of sirens soon came.

"Darn," sighed Prowler, "now we're screwed."

"_You_ are," said Spider-Man as the police cars entered the area and pointed their guns out towards Prowler.

"Don't move!" one of them shouted.

More cops pointed their guns in the water towards Bella Donna and the thugs.

"You're all under arrest!" shouted a cop.

"They know that now," said another cop.

"You gonna take these all back, Spidey," another one of the cops asked Spider-Man.

"Of course," said Spider-Man, "it's what guys like me used to do best. See you around."

He webbed at the spear and the sword, placing them under his arm before grabbing the portrait and swinging off. All of the cops watched in amazement.

"You think he might be our last hope to end all this crime?" one of them asked.

"Who knows?" said the cop next to him, "there might be another."

Mary Jane was in her dressing room, getting ready for her next shoot. She was just putting makeup on when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," she called.

In came Kingsley.

"Oh, hello, boss."

"Hello, MJ, darling. May I please have a word with you?" "Where?"

"Oh, here in the dressing room, of course."

"Well, sure. Come on in."

"Thank you," said Kingsley.

And he walked slowly in, sighing.

"MJ, darling. You and I have known each other for quite a while now, haven't we?"

"Why, yes, Mr. Kingsley. For six years…"

"Precisely. And you know I've taking a great liking to your children. They're lovely both of them. Just had a chat with them right now."

"Oh, yeah. They're just wonderful, aren't they?"

"Yes. But I haven't gotten to the point yet."

"I hope you're saying that the point is how Peter and I have raised to them to be who they are."

"Hmm, Parker. Yes, darling. I assure you that is the point. And I have nothing have nothing against your husband."

"Well, that's good to hear because…"

"However" Kingsley suddenly interrupted, "I do have my suspicions on your husband and I say this with bittersweet words for him and how I think that things should go."

"How should they go, Mr. Kingsley? I'd never divorce a guy like Peter?"

"Oh. So I see. But it seems that your husband, working for the Daily Bugle with his head in the clouds about the retired insect he used to photograph, may not step foot in this museum once more."

"What? Why?"

"Because, darling, I just don't feel safe in this museum when he's around."

"Mr. Kingsley, sir. We can talk this out like clients and you can reason with Peter…"

"No!" he boomed suddenly before settling down and smiling, putting his hand on Mary Jane's shoulder, "I'm sorry, darling. There's nothing more to discuss."

And off he walked out of the dressing room.

Mary Jane looked at her wedding picture of her and Peter. She was starting to wonder whether or not her very own trusted boss knew what he was talking about.


End file.
